


thank me later

by intoxicatelou



Series: The Next Best American Record [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Birthday Sex, Daddy Kink, Hero Worship, I wrote this instead of sleeping and moving and like so many things, Identity Reveal, M/M, Non Iron Man AU, Peter Parker Has a Crush, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is still Spiderman, Peter is 21, Uncle Ben - Freeform, dare I say birthday bathroom sex, mostly feelings, slight D/s undertones, slight emotional angst, this was going to be a star is born AU but then i sneezed and now it's just a mess, tony stark is a famous singer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-26 23:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/pseuds/intoxicatelou
Summary: Peter’s sure he’s been less nervous fighting off Doc Ock his freshman year at MIT than standing in line, waiting for Pepper Potts to let him into the meet and greet tent. Where Tony Stark was waiting. To meet Peter.What the fuck.or the one where Peter meets, saves, and fucks his favorite singer-songwriter on his 21st birthday.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [RedHorse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHorse/pseuds/RedHorse) in the [TomarryFlashExchanges](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TomarryFlashExchanges) collection. 

> ok this is my first time doing any flash fest anything and so pls be gentle with me ~ i rlly don't have the time to upload the second part tonight but!!! i rlly will upload it tomorrow and hope the first part fills the requirements for this flash fest!!! 
> 
> seriously wrote this even though this weekend was beyond busy because i literally was moving across the literal country and have barely slept at all but you know, starker is love starker is life. this is completely unbeta'd and is strife with mistakes, so I apologize but pls come scream with me in the comments <3 also big love to madeofglass for cheering me on and giving the idea for Tony's album!
> 
> title of this fic comes from the song "thank me later" by Anna of the North which is a 10/10 bop
> 
> *re-dated since the authors were revealed for the flash fest, sorry if you've seen this already!! go check out the rest of the collection*

Peter’s crying. Really it’s more of a ugly sob, and it’s going to be on the internet forever because Ned’s been really getting into Instagram live lately, which means people are watching him real time break down to his birthday gift. 

“You _ didn’t!” _ Peter screams, holding the Golden VIP package concert tickets. “We are _ not _ meeting Tony Stark, fifteen time grammy winner, singer extraordinaire, _ my favorite artist of all time. _” 

“It’s your 21st, Peter, so _ yes _we are.” Ned says, grinning before pocketing his phone. “I can’t take sole credit, honestly MJ helped too.” 

Peter’s heart stings at hearing his ex-girlfriend’s name, but even that couldn’t diffuse his joy at the fact that he was going to see _ Tony Stark _Live. 

“I thought they were sold out —” Peter asks, before Ned awkwardly informs him that part had been all MJ. 

“She’d been planning this for a while you know before...”

“The break-up. Ned, you can say it, we’re all adults here.” Peter huffs, it’d been six months and MJ wasn’t even in the country anymore, hadn’t given Peter much warning before dropping the ball that clearly they just weren’t right for each other days before their fourth anniversary and moving to Japan for her last semester at MIT, with no plans on coming back anytime soon. _ It’s just something I have to do, _she’d said, as if that’d be enough for Peter to hold onto. 

It hadn’t been enough, it had barely been anything. Peter had scoured through their texts, re-thought every interaction in the days leading up to MJ’s departure, to realize there truly was no way to see it coming. It didn’t do him any good even now to think about it. Peter had slogged through his classes and spent way too much time patrolling, and he swears the only reason he graduated on time without having a complete mental breakdown was because Ned had been there every step of the way, and Tony Stark had decided to drop a surprise album the weekend after MJ had left. 

If it wasn’t for _ The Futurist _ Peter doubted he’d have held it together the way he did, and to know he was going to see Tony sing it live tonight was... surreal.

“Thank you, seriously,” Peter sniffs, suddenly emotional, “I know you love him as much as I do, I’m really glad we’re doing this together.” 

“Aww Peter,” Ned says, giving Peter a hug, “But you’re wrong, _ nobody _ loves Tony Stark as much as you do.” 

+

Peter usually tried to avoid concerts because close physical interaction with large crowds wasn’t a good idea for his dialed up to eleven senses, but the tickets that Ned had gotten were supposed to be in a special gated off VIP section with only a handful of other people. They weren’t directly in the face of the speakers, but Peter expected it to be loud so he packed his specially engineered earplugs just in case.

Peter had thought and re-thought his outfit, finally settling on his black_ Iron Man _ tee that hung off his collarbone a little because of how often Peter had stretched the collar from wearing it since May had bought it for him for his sixteenth birthday. He’d put on his most ass-complementing black dark skinny jeans to complement his docs, because well, it didn’t hurt to show off his assets especially if he was going to be meeting _ Tony Stark. _

Peter had loved MJ, deeply and with his full heart, but even she knew his first real crush had always been on Tony Stark. If anything, it’s one of the things she would still tease him about even after they got together. 

“You ready dude?” Ned asks, walking into the bathroom as Peter rechecked his hair for the eighth time. “Also, your ass-jeans, _ nice. _Tony isn’t going to know what hit him.”

Peter blushes as Ned snickers at his reaction and Peter turns to face him, arms crossed. “God, What do I even say_ ? _ He’s… He’s _ Tony Stark. _”

Ned snorts, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. But the Lyft is here, so let’s go.” 

+

Peter’s sure he’s been less nervous fighting off Doc Ock his freshman year at MIT than standing in line, waiting for Pepper Potts to let him into the meet and greet tent. Where Tony Stark was waiting. To meet Peter. _ What the fuck. _

“Alright, Peter Parker?” She says, glancing down at her clip board before scanning Peter’s VIP ticket. “You can go ahead. You have 5 minutes, and once your time is up you will be escorted to the VIP booth for the concert.” 

Peter nods, feels his feet take steps forward and then suddenly he’s in the white tent and Peter’s overwhelmed senses can _ smell _ Tom Ford’s _ Fougère d’Argent _ _ — _ Tony’s signature scent, according to Vanity Fair and the lady at the mall counter. He blinks and suddenly, Tony’s right there in front of him, lounging on a red leather sofa which cost probably more than Peter’s rent for a year. 

Peter’s eyes dance over the man in front of him, who as always was dressed impeccably, wearing a tight pair of black designer jeans with a blue and red crosshatch dress shirt paired with a velvet blazer because well he’s _ Tony Stark _and he probably wore velvet blazers to breakfast. 

“I don’t actually wear velvet blazers to breakfast, but I’m flattered you think I do.” Tony lets out a laugh which literally twinkles as it spills into the room. Peter feels pale because he had no idea he said his last thought out-loud, and Tony’s standing up, walking over to wear Peter’s frozen in his spot. “You must be Peter.” 

Tony sticks out a hand, and Peter’s brain decides to come back online and shake it. “Mr. S-Stark, _ hi.” _Peter breathes, finding it hard to think beyond the warmth of Tony’s palm. 

“Mr. Stark, well that’s new.” Tony smiles, still holding Peter’s hand, his eyes giving Peter a once over. 

“I-s-sorry, should I not c-call you that?” Peter stutters, and almost gasping when Tony squeezes his palm a little tighter. 

“Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want.” Peter blinks back at Tony, mouth falling open because _ no way _was Tony Stark, king of bisexuality, hitting on him. Not when Tony had been linked to literal Calvin Klein models like Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. “How about we take a photo? Happy get over here. Give him a smile, sweetheart.” 

_ Sweetheart. _There it was again, and before Peter could process it, Tony’s arm was wrapped around Peter’s waist, his palm wrapping around Peter’s hip so naturally Peter couldn’t help but relax into the touch. 

The flash of camera snaps Peter out of his daze, and he steps away but turning to face Tony, blush bright on his cheeks. “Mr. Stark I just… it’s my birthday and I know you probably hear this a million times but” Peter’s voice feels raw, the words bubbling out his throat, “but you saved my life once.” 

Tony’s eyebrow quirk up, but his eyes are unwavering from where they were looking at Peter, which he takes as a sign to continue. Peter takes a deep breath before talking. 

“When my Uncle died, I was in a really dark place and you had just released _Iron Man _and that album — it helped me get through _everything_ —and I just — I don’t know what I would’ve done without you — Uncle Ben really liked your music, he was the one who introduced you to me and just — sometimes I miss him so much your music is an important part of keeping his memory alive — I’m 21 now and I’d like to think he’d be proud and I know he’d want me to tell you— “ Peter’s eyes blur and he realizes with a horrifying star that he’s crying, “_thank you, _thank you for making me feel like I wasn’t so alone, even when I was.” 

It’s far from the eloquent speech Peter had written and rewritten, all in-hope that if he’d ever get the chance to meet the man in person he’d know exactly what to say. Tony’s music had been the balm to Peter’s troubles, against all odds. 

Peter furiously wipes away his tears with the corner of his shirt, all but waiting for Tony to kick him out because clearly Peter’s five minutes have been up by now because of how long he’d taken blubbering . He hears Pepper’s heels click as they walk into the tent, but not before Tony’s voice rises up, surprisingly soft and firm, “Pepper, give us a moment. I’ll walk him out myself.” Peter hears Pepper’s heels recedes. 

Peter blinks, feeling the heat of Tony’s arm around his back, as the older man ushers him to the couch, handing him a box of tissues. “Peter, I want you to look at me.” 

Peter wipes at his eyes, before nervously pulling his head up to look at the older man’s face. Tony’s eyes are unquestionably kind as he offers Peter a small smile. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. I got into music because after Afghanistan, after the hell I lived through, I knew I survived for a reason. My whole career I’ve struggled to put what that reason was into words, and sitting here in front of you, after hearing your story, I finally can.” He holds Peter’s hand, thumb brushing against Peter’s knuckles, surprisingly tender. “I’ve never been more alone than when I was kidnapped and trapped in that terrible cave. I’ve never been more alone than when I was betrayed by my own. But if it took all of that to get me to write _ Iron Man, _ I would do it again in a heartbeat. And not because of the Grammys, the money, the radio-plays, but because those songs found their way to people like you. It’s every artist’s dream to not only be listened to, but to be _ heard. _Thank you for hearing me, Peter. I know you thanked me because I helped you feel not-alone but you’ve made this old man feel not-alone too. So thank you, kid.” 

Peter can’t stop himself from pushing himself onto Tony, swallowing the older man into a koala-hug. Tony’s body is stiff before he lets himself hug Peter back, arms wrapping around the younger boy. 

“Tony, it’s been more than moment. I know you love your fans, but we’ve got 20,000 people waiting for a concert.” Pepper’s voice rings out, tearing the two men from each other. 

“Oh, right. The Concert.” Peter laughs awkwardly, as Tony’s eyes look at him with an emotion Peter can’t place. “ I’m s-sorry Mr. Stark, for taking up your time —”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” Tony says, cutting Peter’s apology off, his voice lower than usual. “But Pepper’s right. Would you follow Happy to the stage? I’ll see you out there, Peter.” 

Peter nods, before he’s being ushered into the VIP box where Ned was already waiting for him, anxiously checking his watch. He barely gets to wave goodbye at Tony and hates how his stomach dips at that. 

“Dude, I had to ask Pepper where you were because it usually doesn’t take that long_ ” _ Ned rambles, “Are you okay? Like you literally just spent fifteen minutes with _ Tony Stark, alone.” _

“Oh my god. I literally spent _ fifteen minutes _ with Tony Stark. Alone.” Peter repeats, still in the after shock of the whole interaction. “Ned, I told him about Ben and he was so nice and we hugged and I think, I think he was _ flirting _ _ —” _

Peter never gets to finish his thought because it’s at that exact moment that the drones decide to show up, screeching through the metal of the stadium.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bathroom sex? bathroom sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the extra (1) day delay, and thank you for all the comments & kudos!! I've just been so busy with settling down and classes starting, it was a real struggle to get this done all in one day. but because of the wait, this is extra filthy and I'm pouring it out for madeofglass because I re-read our discord conversation for some uh ~ inspiration. 
> 
> completely unbeta'd and i lost literal sleep for writing this, and have procrastinated deeply on my actual reading for school but honestly... starker is love starker is life it was totally worth it<3

When it’s all said and done, Peter’s really grateful that he made his suit-wallet prototype and that the VIP box had been close to the bathrooms. There were no casualties but one of the drones had found Tony at one point, sending him careening into the dark of the night. It was a close call, Peter had only just webbed the drone in time, swinging Tony safely back to the ground before jumping back into the fight. 

Peter had taken hits, the drones outfitted with some sort of metal bullets which his suit repelled..to a certain extent. His body felt as if it’d been put through a meat tenderizer, and Peter wasn’t looking forward to peeling his suit off and seeing the blue purple bruises the bullets had left behind. 

The concert had been immediately rescheduled, following the mass evacuation that had taken place as Peter had webbed drones left and right, trying not to die. What a spectacular way to conclude his twenty first birthday. 

Peter did his best to swallow the bitter rush of tears as he made his way behind the stage, limping slightly in the hallway towards the backdoor. Ned had already reached home, and promised Peter cake which was the only thing keeping him from passing out right then and there. Considering Peter’s history, his injuries weren’t as severe but it still hurt. All he wanted was to see Tony sing for his birthday. 

Peter’s spidey sense picks up the second set of footsteps a little too late, and he barely has a moment to prepare before Tony’s frazzled voice is filling the corridor. “Hi. Hey. You there, the Spiderling? Spiderman? Right.” 

Peter’s head turns so quickly he’s surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. Tony’s shirt is torn from where the drone had grabbed him, his hair haphazard and velvet blazer gone. He’s also missing a sock. Peter kind of wants to kiss him. 

“You saved my life. I swear I thought I was going into the white light but then you and your spandex and webs just appeared and —” Tony waves his hand, gesturing nonsensically. “Anyway. Thank you. Seriously.” He frowns as he notices the way Peter was dragging his left leg, trying to make it to the backstage exit. “You’re limping, do you need like an ice-pack? Frozen peas? A ride home? Can I get you anything?”

Peter shakes his head, a tired smile paints his face behind the mask. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll heal, Mr. Stark.”

Peter doesn't realize his mistake until Tony takes a sharp breath. “Wait — Did you just —Do I know you?” 

“N-No you don’t — this isn’t — Mr. Stark —  _ fuck _ ignore that — ” Peter blusters as Tony walks up to where Peter was standing frozen against the wall, leaning most of his weight on his good leg. He can’t believe he’d forgotten to turn on his voice disguise before speaking to the man he’d talked to only hours before. 

“I’d like to think I’d recognize that voice anywhere after today,” Tony says, standing in front of Peter now, arms crossed. “Prove me wrong, sweetheart.” 

Peter hates the way his breath hitches at the endearment, and Tony’s eyes flicker at the sound, his heartbeat speeding up in Peter’s ears. 

Peter tears off his mask, ignoring the rising wave of panic in his throat.  _ Oh God. _ “Please,  _ please _ Mr. Stark just don’t tell anyone.” 

Tony immediately reaches out to grab Peter’s shaking hand holding his mask, pressing it to his chest. “Hey, hey, Peter. I promise you I won’t tell anyone. It’s not my secret to tell.” 

Peter lets out a deep shuddering sigh, trying to ignore how close Tony is to him, how he can smell the slight drop of bourbon on his breath. “Thank you, Mr. Stark” 

For a moment, they stand there, Tony’s heart bracketed by Peter’s palm, their bodies leaning towards each other like magnets. 

“Seriously though, you don’t have to thank me. I should be thanking you. You saved my life. Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Tony says, breaking the silence. His eyes don’t move from where they bore into Peter’s eyes, all honey warm and bright. 

“It’s really no trouble, Mr. Stark.” Peter’s tongue licks his dry lips and Tony’s eyes drop to track the movement. He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Oh but it is.  _ You saved my life once, _ isn’t that what you said? You know what it feels like. And now I feel it too. So I’m going to ask you again, the offer is still on the table. Frozen peas, a ride home, anything.” Then softer, “You just have to ask, sweetheart.”

Tony hasn’t even touched him, aside from where his thumb was gently rubbing circles into Peter’s wrist and Peter’s already half-hard, senses tripping into overload from  _ sweetheart  _ and  _ I feel it too.  _

_ You just have to ask,  _ but Peter’s throat feels dry as Tony’s eyes continue to study him, and if the man moved an inch he might feel just exactly what Peter was asking for. The thought that his celebrity crush —  _ Tony I Won 50 Grammys, and also an Oscar for that One time Stark  _ — could want him back was dizzying and Peter lets out a short gasp, dropping his mask. “ _ Oh. _ ” 

It was the second time that night in which Peter was sending up a prayer for whoever had designed the arena the way they did, because Tony had all but pulled him into the conveniently placed open bathroom after Peter had dropped his mask, only wasting a second to lock the door before turning to face him with a look which Peter could only describe as livewire. “Pretty sure I’ve had a dream that started like this,” Peter says, laughing nervously as Tony takes another step towards him, and his hand clutches at the bathroom sink. 

“Trust me this is going to be better. Much, much better.” Tony responds, his arms wrapping around Peter’s hips, pulling him into a kiss. 

+

It is much better, Peter contends, from where he was leaning naked, bent over the sink, staring at his blown pupils in the bathroom mirror. 

_ “ _ Mr. St-Stark, _ Tony _ , _ fuck.”  _ Peter whines, pushing his ass back onto Tony’s face, shameless, as the older man tongues his hole, pressing long open mouthed kisses against the fluttering muscle. He’d lost the suit and briefs almost immediately once Tony had pulled him into a filthy kiss, only to have Peter rip off the rest of Tony’s shirt due to the stimulation and well… super-strength. Tony had told Peter he was cataloguing that for next time, and Peter had barely the brain-cells left to process the promise of  _ next time,  _ because Tony had turned him around before dropping to his knees with a slight crack, pressing his face right into Peter’s ass and beginning to eat him out as if Peter was his own private five course meal. 

“So wet for me, fuck, could spend all of forever down here baby.” Tony mumbles, voice sticky sweet. Peter makes the mistake of looking over his shoulder and sees the swipe of Tony’s thick tongue lick a broad stroke over his hole, his eyes dark where they look up at Peter. Peter’s head swivels back to face the mirror, his dick blurting another round of pre-cum onto his stomach, dripping against the cool porcelain of the sink. Peter swears Tony’s smirking, but doesn’t have the energy to look again because Tony begins to tongue-fuck his ass in earnest, the squelching sound filling the room. “Oh my god  _ please, _ please  _ Mr. Stark.”  _ Peter sobs because his dick is so hard, tears pinprick his eyes. His hips thrust abortively at the edge of the sink, the smooth surface offering little friction to soothe Peter’s nerves.

Tony’s hands squeeze Peter’s cheeks, as he pulls back from Peter’s ass to breathe. Peter can’t help but wail at the loss of contact, his face blotchy in the mirror as the tears begin to fall. 

“ _ Sweetheart, _ ” Tony coos, as he stands up, draping his body over Peter’s so his clothed dick was snug against Peter’s wet hole which only made Peter sob harder, “you’re crying.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, it’s just — _I was so close_ — and I _really_ want to come, Mr. Stark — oh my_ God _— ” Peter stammers, as Tony presses an electric kiss to his neck while one of his fingers brush against the swollen head of Peter’s cock.

“Aw, I really want you to come too. It’s just so hard, “ Tony whispers, snaking a hand around Peter’s hips and pulling him even closer, his huge dick rubbing between Peter’s cheeks, “ because I can’t decide how I want you.” 

“H-how you want me?” Peter asks, his cock dripping profusely into the sink. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re getting your ass eaten, but I can’t decide if I want you to come on my fingers or on my cock. You’d look so beautiful either way sweetheart, and I just want to make you feel good.” Peter’s breath hitches, as the hand that was on his hip begins to snake his way up to his throat, Tony’s fingers wrapping around his neck. “Maybe you can help with that. It’s your birthday after all, why don’t you pick baby? Birthday boy’s choice.” 

“ _ Mr. Stark, _ ” Peter doesn’t care how unhinged he sounds, especially when Tony’s hip give a soft thrust, the smooth material of his dress pants feeling so  _ good  _ against his hole. “ _ Cock,  _ sir, please  _ I want your cock.”  _

“That’s a good choice, sweetheart” Tony murmurs, turning Peter’s face so he could kiss him. Tony licks gently into his mouth, and Peter’s lost in the haze of how Tony takes his time, nipping at his bottom lip. He doesn’t even feel the first finger slide in, his ass loose and wet from Tony’s mouth. When Tony adds another, Peter keens into the kiss, pushing his ass back. 

“ _ Sweetheart, _ you’re so tight.” Tony hisses, panting against Peter’s mouth. “You ever done this before?” 

“Y-y-yes.” Peter shudders, his back arching. “Tony,  _ please. _ ” 

“By yourself or with someone else?” Tony asks, complying with Peter’s request by beginning to work Peter open, stretching him with his fingers. 

“By m-myself mostly, but I’ve done it like twice. With other people.” Peter blushes, remembering the threesome MJ and him had with Harry their freshman year , and how she’d pegged him for the first time a couple weeks before the break-up because Peter had finally mustered up the courage to ask. 

“You ever had a dick up your ass, sweetheart?” Tony asks again, so sweetly that Peter groans. 

“Y-y-yes. Just once.  _ Fuck. _ ” Peter gasps, as the pad of Tony’s fingers brush against that special space inside him. 

“You like that? Fuck, so pretty, just look at you.” Tony murmurs, the two fingers grazing against that same spot again with surprising precision and Peter’s eyes feel wet. 

“F-fuck, fuck,  _ Mr. Stark, fuck,  _ oh god — ” Peter babbles, when Tony’s fingers press up against his prostate, rubbing rhythmically. 

“You know, I changed my mind.” Tony says, sucking a red mark into Peter’s neck, regarding his reflection in the mirror with hooded eyes. “It’s your birthday, you shouldn't have to choose.” 

Peter’s mouth drops open, but he can’t think about anything outside of  _ Tony Tony Tony.  _ His words slur as Tony’s fingers pick up their pace. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,  _ Mr. Stark,  _ god,  _ god, I’m so close  _ —”

“You saved my life, you’re such a good boy.” Peter’s hip were pushing back, doing their best to match Tony’s fingers. “Good boys deserve to come don’t you think?”

Peter lets out a whine, a fresh stream of tears falling from his eyes because  _ he’s so close  _ and the way Tony calls him  _ good boy  _ sends a jolt through his stomach. “ _ Mr. Stark,  _ Tony, please, please —”

“Come for me, sweetheart.” Tony says, his hand wrapping around Peter’s dick just in time as Peter twitches, letting out a high pitched moan as his orgasm runs through him. 

“Just like that baby, so good for me, so good.” Tony murmurs, pressing kisses to Peter’s face as he works him through it. Tony’s fingers pause inside Peter, before leaving him completely, and Peter’s whole body feels so empty without them. “ _ Mr. Stark,” _ Peter protests, his voice high and wrecked.

“You ready for my cock, sweetheart?” Tony asks, in the same sugar-toned voice as before, unzipping himself just enough so he can pull his dick out. Peter hears the sound of lube packet being torn open, the wet cold being massaged into his hole. 

“Yes please,  _ Tony. _ ” Peter lets out another moan as Tony pushes the head of his cock against Peter’s glistening, pink hole. Peter looks at Tony’s lidded eyes through the mirror, as he rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth. Peter whines, reaching back to grab Tony’s hand before he can put the condom on.

“I’m clean, please —” He stammers, “Condoms don’t really go well with the whole oversensitive Spider-man thing.” 

“Really?” Tony asks, eyebrows quirking up, not believing Peter for a second, which like. Okay. He wasn’t  _ wrong.  _

“Well… not really. But I just. I want to feel you,  _ please, _ please. _ ”  _ Peter blurts out, biting his lip before finding Tony’s eyes in the mirror. 

The older man just looks at him for a minute before pressing his lips to Peter’s ear, “You want me to fuck your ass raw like you’re my little slut?” He bites Peter’s earlobe sharply, “Is that what you want Peter?” 

Peter gasps, nodding hard, “Yes, Mr. Stark, I want —” He pauses, brain short-circuiting on the words,  _ little slut,  _ the slur glowing hot in his chest. 

“Say it, sweetheart.” Tony murmurs, peppering Peter’s shoulders with soft kisses, despite the rasp of his voice. “Let me hear how bad you want my cock.” 

Peter groans, overwhelmed by having Tony’s cock so close to being inside him and yet so far. He blabbers desperate, his own cock already hard again, curving against his stomach, “ _ Fuck me, Mr. Stark _ , please sir I-I-I want to be your _ little s-s-slut”  _

Tony bites into Peter’s shoulder, a broken moan leaving his throat as he begins to push his cock inside. Peter can barely recognize the sound of his own voice as Tony bottoms out, his dick so thick and long and hot, Peter can’t think of anything outside of the smell, the heartbeat, the taste of the man behind him. He was dialed up to eleven, with the only focus being on Tony Stark. Time stretches as Tony pants harsh breaths, giving Peter a second to adjust. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight, so fucking pretty and tight” Tony says, licking a long stripe of Peter’s neck, sending shivers through Peter. 

“F-fuck me, please,  _ please, Tony”  _ Peter begs, finally pushing his hips back only to have Tony grip them tight. “I want it, I want your cock sir, make me feel it  — ”

Tony cuts Peter off and captures his mouth in a languid kiss, curling his tongue inside Peter’s mouth as his hips finally begin to move in contrast with fast, sharp thrusts, swallowing Peter’s mewls. 

Tony’s cock is big, bigger than Harry or the strap or the dildo that he bought once he realized MJ wasn’t coming back, and Peter swears if he touches his stomach he can feel Tony’s dick pushing against it. The thought sends a hot flash all the way to his toes, as Tony keeps fucking his asshole fast and dirty, the sound of their skin slapping beyond pornagraphic. 

“Look at yourself, full of cock and still drooling for it, never seen such a pretty fucking slut in my entire life.” Tony grunts, hips moving faster and faster and Peter’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head with the way the head of Tony’s cock brushes against his prostate with each hard thrust. 

“F-fuck, Mr. Stark, oh my god —” Peter cries, hot tears falling from his eyes as he takes in the beard burn on his neck, his puffy nipples, his hard dripping cock, all caught in the heat of Tony’s gaze. “Please,  _ please”  _

Tony kisses him then, finally getting one hand around Peter’s dick, jerking him in time with his thrusts. His other hand curls again around Peter’s throat, his eyes possessive and dark as they stare at Peter through the mirror. “So beautiful sweetheart, fucking me so good with your slut hole —” 

“Mr. Stark, please,  _ please,  _ I’m so close —” Peter sobs as Tony’s hand squeezes down, cutting off his air supply as his thrusts grow more erratic, his hand all but becoming a fist that Peter’s hips fuck into. Peter lets out a watery sniffle, his orgasm so  _ close,  _ but he just needs — _ he needs _ —

“Come on sweetheart, let go for me.  _ Come on Daddy’s cock _ .” Tony slams back into Peter exceptionally hard and releases Peter’s throat, the air flooding the younger man’s lungs, a loud moan leaving his throat as his balls tighten thinking about how Tony had said  _ Daddy’s cock.  _

“Mr. Stark, fuck, ah  _ Tony”  _ Peter takes all but one shuddering breath before he’s sobbing as he comes hard, his dick shooting all over his stomach and the bathroom mirror. Tony’s hand works him through it, the other dropping from Peter’s throat to grip his hips bruisingly tight, his hips still relentesly fucking into Peter. 

“Tony —  _ Tony  _ — please, fill me up, want your come  _ daddy  _ —  _ want to be your little full slut.”  _ Peter hiccups with each thrust, all but begging and Tony’s body freezes not a second later, hips spasming out against Peter’s ass. Peter’s whole body throbs as he feels Tony’s warm come fill him up, the older man’s thrusts finally slowing. 

Tony pulls out, but doesn’t step away from Peter, not until he turns Peter around and kisses him, palms cupping Peter’s face. Peter blinks, hands coming up to cover Tony’s, staring at the man in front of him and letting out a small whine as he moves his legs, only to feel the come drip out of him. 

“Fuck,” Tony curses, voice low, thumb carressing Peter’s cheekbones. “Next time, I’m going to spread you out on a mattress and eat my come out of your ass.”

“ _ Next time. _ ” Peter blushes, blinking again, because surely this must be a dream. 

“If you’ll have me,” Tony grins, pressing another kiss to Peter’s lips, “And for the record, I think I might write a song about you even if you say No. ” 

Peter giggles, delirious, and kisses Tony back, mumbling a thousand yes’s against his mouth. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!! please come yell with me in the comments because sex!!! also I think whenever I have the time I might write a follow-up to this & add a moodboard later because I really do love this AU. <3

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading <3 comments & kudos welcome!


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